[He says it waspishly, which betrays just how little he cares about this man and his stupid friends. Honestly, he'd just whip Chariot out and be done with it, except there's Yukina here to worry about.
They've frightened her not just once, but twice. That can't stand. Polnareff shifts his weight, standing more solidly in front of her. He's a big man, tall and broad both, and she's more than hidden behind him.
And that's why, too, the men standing a few feet away don't see Chariot suddenly appear behind Polnareff. Curling his legs, he hovers in front of Yukina, staring silently at her for just a moment.
Then, carefully, his fingers fumbling just a little (because Polnareff is working blindly right now; he can't see through Chariot's eyes), he sets his metallic hand gently atop her head. It'll be all right, and both Stand and master hope that's conveyed.
Then he's gone, disappearing as quickly and silently as he came, as Polnareff cracks his neck.]
Listen. I've had a pretty shit few days, and I've got my sister here to worry about, so I'm gonna give you one chance, okay? Back off.
[The warning (and it is a warning, not a threat) goes sadly unheeded. There's a few sniggers and sneers, but the mirth is mostly gone from this group.]
Step back.
[That's murmured to Yukina, and then he steps forward.
And what follows is . . . violent. Violent and swift, because for all his goofy smiles and teasing jokes, Polnareff is a warrior at the end of the day. He's trained himself for years to deal with foes far more powerful than a bunch of boys playing at being men. Even without Chariot appearing (and he does not appear, because he won't stain his sword with blood for the likes of these fools), Polnareff is more than a match for them. He ducks and dodges with surprising speed for a man of his size, throwing out punches with all his weight behind them. Kicks and jabs, right hooks and lefts-- it's easy, like a dance, like a waltz, and he loses himself in it, one two three, just like that, because fighting is so wonderful, fighting doesn't take any thought at all, all he has to do is act, and he's never better than when he's simply moving and not thinking.
They don't last long. Oh, they put up an effort, and they even manage to get a fair few hits in, but it's like a wave hitting a rock: he reacts, but then he simply gets back up and keeps going. One of them is even stupid enough to yank out a knife, but if he lands a hit (and he does; he lands two, deep scores that Polnareff honestly doesn't feel, though blood wells to the surface), it isn't enough. Soon enough the man is flat on his back, his hand kicked until he releases the knife.
They lie strewn about him, groaning softly. None are dead, though they probably deserve it. He knows their type, and this most certainly wasn't the first time they've harassed someone. But . . .
Mm. She's still there, isn't she? Polnareff glances behind him, trying to find her.]
no subject
[He says it waspishly, which betrays just how little he cares about this man and his stupid friends. Honestly, he'd just whip Chariot out and be done with it, except there's Yukina here to worry about.
They've frightened her not just once, but twice. That can't stand. Polnareff shifts his weight, standing more solidly in front of her. He's a big man, tall and broad both, and she's more than hidden behind him.
And that's why, too, the men standing a few feet away don't see Chariot suddenly appear behind Polnareff. Curling his legs, he hovers in front of Yukina, staring silently at her for just a moment.
Then, carefully, his fingers fumbling just a little (because Polnareff is working blindly right now; he can't see through Chariot's eyes), he sets his metallic hand gently atop her head. It'll be all right, and both Stand and master hope that's conveyed.
Then he's gone, disappearing as quickly and silently as he came, as Polnareff cracks his neck.]
Listen. I've had a pretty shit few days, and I've got my sister here to worry about, so I'm gonna give you one chance, okay? Back off.
[The warning (and it is a warning, not a threat) goes sadly unheeded. There's a few sniggers and sneers, but the mirth is mostly gone from this group.]
Step back.
[That's murmured to Yukina, and then he steps forward.
And what follows is . . . violent. Violent and swift, because for all his goofy smiles and teasing jokes, Polnareff is a warrior at the end of the day. He's trained himself for years to deal with foes far more powerful than a bunch of boys playing at being men. Even without Chariot appearing (and he does not appear, because he won't stain his sword with blood for the likes of these fools), Polnareff is more than a match for them. He ducks and dodges with surprising speed for a man of his size, throwing out punches with all his weight behind them. Kicks and jabs, right hooks and lefts-- it's easy, like a dance, like a waltz, and he loses himself in it, one two three, just like that, because fighting is so wonderful, fighting doesn't take any thought at all, all he has to do is act, and he's never better than when he's simply moving and not thinking.
They don't last long. Oh, they put up an effort, and they even manage to get a fair few hits in, but it's like a wave hitting a rock: he reacts, but then he simply gets back up and keeps going. One of them is even stupid enough to yank out a knife, but if he lands a hit (and he does; he lands two, deep scores that Polnareff honestly doesn't feel, though blood wells to the surface), it isn't enough. Soon enough the man is flat on his back, his hand kicked until he releases the knife.
They lie strewn about him, groaning softly. None are dead, though they probably deserve it. He knows their type, and this most certainly wasn't the first time they've harassed someone. But . . .
Mm. She's still there, isn't she? Polnareff glances behind him, trying to find her.]